


Homeward

by armitageadoration



Category: Actor RPF, Richard Armitage/RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-05 21:29:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13396602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armitageadoration/pseuds/armitageadoration
Summary: The books and the movies, they tell us a tale of love or heartbreak. You always see what happens in the moves to be moments of love found where there should be none. What happens when you realize it also happens in life?A second chapter has been added to give Alexander words of his own. Also to give Richard a little more as well.





	1. Chapter 1

_France, c. early 1800s._

I knew right away when I smiled at the man that I had made a grave error. Father had sent me to the market that day to pick out fresh fruits for my siblings. It wasn’t much, he merely wished for the younger ones to have a treat. The man had seemingly appeared out of nowhere when I caught him looking at me. I gave the man a smile a bounced a curtsy his way and went on with my business. One half of his face, almost exactly so, was scarred horribly. It looked like from a fire but that did not explain how half was perfect and the other half was not.

He was tall with blue eyes and jet hair. There was something that tugged at my heart for him and another something that told me to fear the man.  Not that it truly mattered, I was rarely permitted outside of my father’s estate. I would never see him again, so I thought.

Less than two days later, the man was dining with my father. I had been called in to the privacy of Father’s dining hall after I had seen to it that my younger siblings were tended to. When our mother passed away three years ago, the children were given to me to care for. I was ten years older than the next eldest who was now eight.

“Papa?”

“Claret, come sit my girl. Allow me to introduce to you Alexander Collingsworth.”

“Bonjour Monsieur Collingsworth.”

“Mr. Collingsworth is English like ourselves, Claret.”

“My apologies to you Sir. I did not know.”

“No need to apologize Miss Claret.”.

Only half of his mouth was able to smile. It seemed odd to find that his voice was unexpectedly rich and warm. He and my father continued on with their conversation. I was a forgotten piece of furniture to the pair. I was used to it. My father paid little attention to me since Mama died. Actually, he paid little attention to any of his children. His time was taken up with the making of wine, drinking, and gambling. We should have been better off than we were, but Papa gambled so much of the money made away. This estate was part of my mother’s legacy, and all that we had. I was worried of my younger siblings as they were not old enough yet to take care of themselves should our father lose this place.

“Claret?”

“Yes Sir?”

“You must go and pack your dresses.”

“Am I going somewhere?” I was puzzled.

“Mr. Collingsworth is returning to England with you in tow.”

“Whatever for?” I was baffled by this.

“You shall be married soon to him.”

Everything went black. When I had woken again, I was in a carriage with the mysterious scarred man. He explained to me a few truths of the matter. My father had lost an exorbitant amount of money to him in a card game. After seeing me in the market, which had been set up by my father, he agreed to take me back to England with him to be his bride instead of taking the estate. Now the debt was paid in full.

He must have seen the fury in my eyes at learning the news. Mr. Collingsworth patted my hand gently and made a promise. He would not force me to marry him, but I would stay there at his estate either until I agreed to marry him or passed into spinsterhood. If the latter were to happen, I would be assigned to his household as a servant. He swore that until I agreed to marry him I would be left untouched as a lady should be.

Alexander Collingsworth was neither unkind nor impolite. He made sure my needs were taken care of on the trip back to England and even onward to his estate. I was given a suite of rooms upon arrival. The bedroom, private privy, library, and sitting room were quite lovely. I could not complain about that in the least. There was even a walled garden so that I may get some fresh air.

Still, I was a prisoner in his home.

A maid would come in the morning and get me ready for the day and once more at night to help me ready myself for bed. She had been ordered not to speak to me. Someone came to clean every day as well, but they were not permitted to be in the same room nor speak to me. Other than that, I had no contact from anyone except Alexander Collingsworth himself.

He and I shared meals together and a bit of private time speaking in the parlor. I was not permitted out of my suite of rooms or the garden under any circumstances.

The cool wet spring turned into a blistering hot and dry summer. I grew listless with the amount of time spent alone. I was merely a prisoner here. It was, of course, better than any actual prison. Yet, I felt that I would die all the same.

My captor was an interesting and intelligent man. I was told how he came to have the scars. He had been a military man at one point and was captured. The men that captured him had heated a knife blade and pressed it into his flesh repeatedly. They wanted information on the Crown but, of course, he had none. They had left him for dead but he survived the wounds.

“How did you get your name Miss Claret?”

“According to my father, I had wine stained lips at my birth and thus my mother named me such.” It was true. I also still had the color, although it had lessened as the years went by. I never had to pinch my skin like some of the girls did when they wished to look pretty for some boy.

“You are quite the lovely young woman.”

He stood and walked over towards my chair.

“Thank you Sir.”

His hands now rested upon the back of my chair. My hair resisted the hands of the maid when she tried to style it into something a well-respected young woman would wear. My mother used to say my hair was as willful as the head it lay upon. There was always a black curl springing out from somewhere. This time proved no different. Collingsworth twisted the jet curl around his finger briefly before tucking it back behind my ear. The touch from a man that I didn’t know was far too intimate for my tastes and I couldn’t help but shrink away from him.

“Is it because of how I look that you do not desire my touch?” His voice was soft. Yet, I could hear the pain beneath just the same.

“Your looks have nothing to do with anything where I am concerned Mr. Collingsworth. You have taken me from my family and have kept me prisoner for five months now. Is it any wonder that I fear you?”

He was much stronger than I originally believed when he swung my chair to the side and knelt in front of me. I tried to push away from him but the grasp on my forearms was too great.

“Look at me Claret. Look at me!”

I had no problem looking at him directly. The scars did not frighten nor disgust me. It was simply part of him. My own eyes were as dark as his were light. It was the difference between night and day even beyond the coloring. He kissed me. His lips were gentle against my own yet searching for something deeper. Without thinking, I slapped his face.

“You swore you would not touch me!”

He stood up abruptly with the slap. With nothing more than a nod, Alexander Collingsworth walked out the door.

The next day he did not come, for that I was glad. Nor did he come the next day or even the next. Soon other than the maid, I saw no one. Weeks turned into months and I was left alone. There was always food and drink brought to me but never by someone that would speak. I tried to find a way out of the rooms, but to no avail.

I am ashamed to admit it but I wept often for his company.

It was perhaps the first of September when I was awoken to the sound of rain against the windows. The summer had been so long and dry, just this little change excited me to no end. I didn’t bother grabbing a dressing gown, but instead I rushed outside in my night clothes. The rain soaked my skin. With hair unbound, I stood in the middle of the garden looking to the sky. I could not help but whisper a prayer to God above in thanks. With the rain rolling down my skin, the tension and fear of the last months were washed away.

Out of nowhere I felt something collide with my body. Gasping for a breath, I did a mental inventory to make sure that I was not badly injured. I wasn’t. It had been Alexander Collingsworth that collided with me.

He was pressed close to me. It was only then that I realized that the thin muslin gown was virtually translucent over my body. My back pinned to the rough bark of a tree, Collingsworth had one hand on my shoulder and the other was stroking the curve of my breast. Just a single stroke of his thumb glided over a swollen nipple. I couldn’t help it. I shivered down to my core. With his erection pressing hard at the apex of my thighs, my breathing quickened. I had never felt this way before. His lips were so close to mine that with just a tip of my head I could kiss him. So, I did. The kiss was heated with a passion that surprised us both. As much as the rain cooled the garden his body seared my skin. I could feel him ready and while I only knew in whispers what that meant, I wanted him all the same. My hand came up, cupping his cheek. When he flinched back from my hand, I realize that I had touched the scars. The words were whispered as begged him not to pull away. When he looked at me, there was a storm brewing in his blue eyes. He ended up grasping my hand and pressing his cheek to it. It was then that I knew.

**********

“AND CUT! That’s it for the day”

“Well done you two. I couldn’t have asked for more sexual tension between you if I wanted.” The director smiled.

Richard Armitage looked relieved and immediately went back towards his trailer, saying nothing. His co-star on the other hand looked confused. Since the first day they had met, they both had gotten along beautifully. The camaraderie between them was both fun and relaxing.

Risa Copeland took the proffered robe, and slid into it for warmth. “Thank you.”

She went back to the trailer to take a shower and get dressed in street clothes before heading to the hotel. It wasn’t until she was in her own room that she realized what the cause of Richard’s odd behavior could be.

Changing into a tanktop and yoga pants for the night, she grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses. Walking down to the room Richard had, she heard him swear loudly. Stifling the laughter was virtually impossible but she managed to do both that and knock on the door. Silence.

“Rich, I know you are in there. I have wine and I heard you swear.”

He swore again. This time less loudly and opened the door. “Risa, not tonight.”

“That’s fine. You and I need to speak it seems. We can do this now or in the morning.”

He glared at her. “Come in.”

“Thank you. May I have a seat?”

“Yes, please have a seat.” He looked tired and annoyed.

Ignoring the look, Risa poured them both a glass of wine and turned to face him. “What happened back there?”

“Where?”

“On set Rich. I have worked with you for the past six weeks and I have never seen you be rude.”

“I’m tired.”

She stared at him and lifted a brow. “We are all tired. Now would you please tell me the truth?”

“No. Risa maybe you shouldn’t be here tonight. How the fuck old are you anyway?”

Laughing, she was completely puzzled. “I turn 34 in three months.”

“Really?”

“Yes really.”

“I thought you were closer in age to your character.”

“That is lovely of you to say, but not hardly.” Pausing, Risa contemplated something. “Was that your worry, because you got an actual erection instead of just pretending like the script called for?”

“Risa!” He blushed brightly. “Jesus Christ.”

Sighing, it was her turn to look tired. “Richard, we were both aroused.”

“Would you stop?!”

“Not until I am done! Fucking hell Richard. We have spent every day for the better part of six weeks in some damn state of undress around each other. We have spent every night drinking a bottle of wine together and talking as well. The ONLY time we haven’t was when we were doing night shoots for god’s sake!”

He got up and began to walk away. “I am not having this discussion.”

She was faster on her feet than he was. Cutting him off, Risa stood in his way. “Richard, we were both aroused. Do you hear me? I am not that damn good of an actress that I can fake being aroused.”

She stared at him while he stared back at her, dumbfounded. His face was lit with a fiery red blush as she stared pointedly into his eyes.

“I’m mortified that you were able to feel me. Even more so because I thought you were so young.” His reply was barely audible. “I hate the damn sex scenes. You never know if you are going to offend someone for having a bloody erection or for not having one. I went too far with you Risa. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. You felt perfect. Your hands on me. The feral look in your eyes. I wasn’t acting Richard. At. All. If that had been another time or place, I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

“Or not surrounded by 50 people?”

“Honestly, at that moment, I didn’t know they were there.” She answered truthfully.

Standing there, he looked at her in surprise. The sincerity of her words finally sinking in. Gently, Richard took her lips in a kiss. Gentle at first, even somewhat tentative. He waited for her reaction. The softness parted for him and urging the kiss deeper. His hands were gentle as they stroked across bare arms and shoulders. Not breaking away, Risa helped remove his shirt and just moments after he did the same to her.  Her yoga pants and his sweats were gone soon as well. Swinging her up and into his arms, Richard took her back to the bedroom.

Laying down next to her, no words were spoken. He did what the script called for, a calloused thumb brushed across an already hardened nipple. Now, he could see. The shiver, the parting of full lips. Those sharp panting breaths that made the taut flesh pucker further. His head dipped forward, a kiss was placed on the tip of each nipple. With each kiss, her body arched.

His own breath was coming faster, but he would not rush the moment.

“You are beautiful.”

It was Risa’s turn to blush. “Not as beautiful as you are Richard.”

He marveled at her responsiveness to each stroke of his hand. Warm skin was flushed and each time he slid a hand across her body in a different way Risa shivered with pleasure. She returned the touches with her own. Lips found the hollow of his collarbone, licking the shallow space. Wandering hands stroked across his muscles everywhere she could reach.

When she pulled away gently, just in that moment he felt the loss. It didn’t last for long when full lips found the tip of his cock and she drew him in between her lips. Long fingered hands, like that of a pianist, stroked his inner thighs while she tasted the pre-cum at the tip. He couldn’t help it when his hands clenched the sheets nearly ripping them. He had to stop her or he would finish for the night. Richard was far from ready for the night to end. Pulling Risa up his body, he could feel the tip of his cock slid against the wet folds. It took everything in him not to thrust into her even then.

Languid kisses took each of their breaths away. His fingers explored lower, opening her some. Groaning softly when he did, Risa felt a flush of embarrassment when she realized just how wet he made her. The warm chuckle in her ear washed the embarrassment away.

For seemingly hours that was all they did. Exploring each other’s bodies and reveling in the kisses that were no longer stifled. They tasted and touched between soft words spoken. Their bodies, slick with sweat, shimmered in the low lights. Hours passed in seconds and they were both ready for more.

Richard looked in to his lover’s eyes. The warm darkness sparkled a wordless answer of delight. “Look at me Risa. Look, please.”

So she did. Their gazes stayed locked on each other as he finally took her fully as he had wished to do all day. A soundless cry was all she could do. Their eyes still intent on each other while bodies and hearts danced together. Richard pulled her leg up, driving in deeper. Delicate hands clenched his body, nails biting across his skin while she pressed upwards to meet those deep thrusts.

They clung to each other with lust and need.

Within the moments of their lovemaking, they found and shared truths. A strong hand brushed back fallen curls so he could witness the very moment when she gave herself to him fully. Moments after he paid witness to her, Richard did the same. Cries mingled into a symphony of luxuries found together and an aria of desire, until both were spent at once.

The room was close to silent after that. Their hearts and breathing slowing. Richard rolled to his side, taking Risa with him. Their bodies still connected. He made a sound of pleasure once more as Risa’s hand stroked gently along the damp hairs at the nape of his neck. Neither spoke. There was no need to. Two people that were far too concerned about what the next day would bring felt at peace, together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the retelling of the same story, but more from Alexander/Richard's side.

_France, c. early 1800s._

 

I had met the girl’s father while playing cards one evening. Neither of us loss any money, but we didn’t make much either. The man had that fevered look in his eyes of one addicted. This wasn’t a game for him, this was something he craved more than food or drink. When he invited me to play the next evening at his home, I readily accepted. Fools such as this man rarely won.

While I saw the girl, she did not see me. How did I know she did not see me? She didn’t turn away in fright. While in the military, I had been disfigured. Women and children both turned away from my face in fear or disgust. Men weren’t apt to do so as often. Still, I saw the pity in their eyes. In this man’s eyes I saw greed instead.

He lost that night, in his own home. That is what he lost as well, his home. The small estate, lands and winery would have become mine. A bargain was struck. It was his idea, rather than mine. He would permit me to take his daughter back to England where we would be wed. Certainly a man such as myself would enjoy a pretty lass by my side he had said. A man such as myself indeed. He was not wrong, alas. When I had returned to England, no woman would give me a second glance. My wealth mattered not if they would be forced to bed a disfigured man.

I had never forced a woman in my life, I wasn’t going to start now. I made a tentative agreement with the man to allow the girl to see me in two days’ time. If she did not run from me or look at me with horror, then she would return to England as a potential mate. Once again, I explained to her father that I would not force her hand. If she accepted the idea, then so be it. If she did not, she could remain as a servant in my household.

The man had sent his daughter to the market at the assigned day and time. She did indeed see me. While my face as scarred as it was, may have startled her, she looked upon me as a complete man and managed to smile. I knew then I wanted her. The arrangement was set up between myself and her father over dinner, I would be taking the girl home with me the following day. First, I wished to meet her. One of the servants went to retrieve the young woman. I did not even know her name yet, I realized.

“Papa?” She was quiet in responding, she knew she wasn’t supposed to be in this room.

“Claret, come sit my girl. Allow me to introduce to you Alexander Collingsworth.”

“Bonjour Monsieur Collingsworth.” She dipped a curtsey.

“Mr. Collingsworth is English like ourselves, Claret.”

“My apologies to you Sir. I did not know.”

“No need to apologize Miss Claret.” I couldn’t help but stare at her. She was a vision of loveliness.

I watched her father carefully. He ignored Claret completely while we discussed business. I had to wonder why, but to ask would be impolite by any standard.

 

 

“Claret?” Her father asked.

“Yes Sir?”

“You must go and pack your dresses.”

“Am I going somewhere?” She sounded confused.

“Mr. Collingsworth is returning to England with you in tow.”

“Whatever for?” She looked frightened now.

“You shall be married soon to him.”

The girl then fainted. If I had not been faster on my feet she would have hit the cold stone floor. I immediately felt pity for her. I pretended not to understand while her father shouted orders in French. He called for a sleeping draught to be given to her immediately. This way she wouldn’t be able to put up a fuss. He also sent for another servant to pack only the necessities that the girl owned.

We were in the carriage and on the way to the shipyard before she awoken. My heart did go out to her, I swear that upon my own grave. I hoped life with me, even if she loathed my existence from taking her away from her family, would be better than what she had currently.

I explained where we were going and was going to happen. I promised her I would not do anything untoward her. She would not be forced to marry me, ever.  I made the return trip home for both of us as lavish as possible, hoping it would ease her pain.

The rooms at my estate that would be her’s were set up as a flat should be. They had been my mother’s during her confinement time with us children. I had left them virtually untouched, only to be kept in the standard my mother was used to, since I had inherited the vast estate.

Claret, my sweet Claret! How I desired her so! I wronged her in the first months that she was with me. I did not do it as a punishment. I wanted her to see me as a complete man. I was not the sum of my disfigurement. That was only flesh, the man I am was buried beneath it. I ordered the servants not to speak with her, unless it was either ordered by myself or needed to be asked for her well-being.  I admit, I was a foolish man.

I wanted her to know that I would be a constant in her life and that she could depend on me. We took our meals together and spent private time together learning of each other. I wanted her to accept me, even when I could not do that myself.

Claret never asked how I became disfigured. Yet, I told her all the same. I saw then the pity in her eyes. I didn’t understand that it wasn’t for me but instead for the pain I endured.

Then I made my first grievous mistake with her. I asked about her name.

“How did you get your name Miss Claret?” I tried to smile for her but only one side of my mouth moved.

“According to my father, I had wine stained lips at my birth and thus my mother named me such.”

“You are quite the lovely young woman.” I could tell she told me the truth about her name and I told her the truth about her beauty.

I walked to her, closing the acceptable distance between an unmarried woman and man between us. I remember how wary her eyes seemed or perhaps it was fright, I am not sure. I needed to close that gap between us. I touched as I shouldn’t have. Her wildly curly dark locks escaped from whatever the lady’s maid tried to do with her hair. A single lock, I wound around my finger. I examined its silkiness and wondered how those curls would feel unbound. Tucking it behind Claret’s ear, I knew at once I had gone too far. She pulled away from the act so innocent but so inappropriate as well.

“Is it because of how I look that you do not desire my touch?” I kept my voice soft, not wishing to frighten her. I could hear the pain in my words and realized she could hear it as well.

“Your looks have nothing to do with anything where I am concerned Mr. Collingsworth. You have taken me from my family and have kept me prisoner for five months now. Is it any wonder that I fear you?”

I knew she was correct. I only wished her to feel the need for me as I felt for her. Yet still, in the time passed, we knew each other no better than during the carriage ride. Why couldn’t she see me for who I am? I swung the chair she sat in around and grasped Claret’s forearms.

“Look at me Claret. Look at me!”

I am not sure if I shouted at her or pleaded with her, nonetheless I broke my promise when I kissed her. If the scarring hadn’t made me a monster, the forcing this beautiful young woman to kiss me did. I could have stopped her but I didn’t. Her hand connected with my cheek. She slapped me away. It was not painful. I have very little feeling on the scarred side of my face.

“You swore you would not touch me!”

The words stung far more than the slap did. She was right. I broke the promise. I broke her trust. I could not face her knowing this, so I left.

I had never known the full extent of how cruel I could be until that day. I did not go back to her rooms. I couldn’t. My own self-pity ate at me. I wanted her to show me that she wanted me back. Claret didn’t know that while I refused to enter those rooms, I still watched her. The only views I was able to see were the sitting room and the library. It was done that way on purpose by my father. The bedroom and, of course, the privy were not meant to be seen. While my mother was in labor, he would be able to keep an eye on how she was doing. So, that is what I did to Claret. I watched.

As time passed, she cried more and more often. I could hear the sounds but not see her. I wanted to go to her desperately, but I couldn’t. I had broken the once promise I made to myself and to her.

The summer had been unseasonably hot and dry. So while I was getting dressed one early September morning, I heard the rain beating against the window. God was washing the earth of the sins once more. I hoped. Nay, I prayed. That this could be the help of reaching to Claret once more. I ran from the other side of the estate to where her chambers lay.

She wasn’t there.

All of the rooms were empty.

If something happened to that girl, I would die by my own hand. In an instant I saw her in the garden. She looked like a siren in the waters. Soaked to the skin, Claret was obviously enjoying the change of weather.

By god, she was beautiful! I ran after her. This siren would be the death of me if I let her. Instead of going to her gently, I slipped. The mud thrust me forward and I collided with Claret.  The only thing I could do to keep both of us from falling was hold on and thrust her to the tree.

I may have cursed God when I saw what she was wearing. The muslin night clothes were made translucent by the rain. Having never seen her in a state of undress before, I was awestruck. Claret was a beautiful girl, there was no doubt of that. I had no idea that she was this beautiful.

With the miles of clothing she wore, there was never even a thought about what she looked like beneath them. Her breasts were rounded, far fuller than I had ever imagined. With the chill of the rain her nipples puckered beneath the fabric. I barely touched the sensitive peak before I realized I was aching for her.

My cock, barely contained in my trousers throbbed painfully. Why I pressed against her, I have no idea. Her back was to the bark of the tree. Pulling her up just enough, I looked into her eyes. My body begged for some relief. Anything! I pressed myself between her thighs trying to rid any of the aching that I felt. God have mercy on my soul, I needed to kiss her, but I didn’t.

She kissed me.

I thought my heart would explode at her willing kiss. The whispers told me a new tale. She was wanting me as much as I desired her. Unfortunately, she touched my cheek.

I jerked back from her as if I had been burned once again. No woman. Not even my own mother had touched those scars willingly. Her soft pleas to not pull away were too much. The pain was worth it if she could touch me, see me as a man. I placed Claret’s hand against the scars once again. I was home.

************

“Well done you two. I couldn’t have asked for more sexual tension between you if I wanted.” The director smiled.

Richard walked off the set abruptly. He said nothing, to his co-star or crew. He sported a frown and a set jaw, nobody went after him. He was known as a moody actor, but a gentleman at all times. The behavior was unusual for him.

He was furious at himself. Removing the latex scars, he threw the cosmetic creation against the wall. The costume was removed far more gently than the latex was. He stepped into the small shower and immediately turned the water to cold. Even with the freezing water, it did little to cool his throbbing erection. That last scene had been brutal. There wasn’t any reason to have touched Risa’s nipple, the script didn’t call for it. Richard had done it anyway. Turning the tap to warm the water, the icy cold was not helping. A handful of soap, he grabbed his swollen member and began to pump his hand around the shaft. How many times had he jerked off with thoughts of her these last six weeks? The first time they met, he had been mesmerized by her beauty. Long hair, full lips, and a body that most anyone would kill to possess in so many different ways. It was the following day that he discovered her intelligence, sense of humor, and that mischievous look she often had.  

The hot water and soap lubricating, Richard imagined what it would feel like to have Risa Copeland pinned in the shower, kissing her willing lips and driving hard and fast into her. With that singular thought, he came hard and fast.

Getting dressed, he left for the hotel.

Angry, Richard paced the suite. Completely mortified that he had been pressing his erection hard against her. He didn’t even notice until the director ended the scene. The scene had felt real. It wasn’t Alexander and Claret in the moment, it had been Richard and Risa. How the fuck was he going to face her tomorrow? How does one apologize for something like that? Christ! She is so damned young!

He caught his toe against the foot of the sofa and cursed loudly. Sitting down, he rubbed the smallest toe, hoping it wasn’t broken. There was a knock on the door. It was probably her. They had an evening ritual for unwinding after the long day.

“Rich, I know you are in there. I have wine and I heard you swear.” She sounded amused.

He swore again. This time less loudly and opened the door just a small fraction. “Risa, not tonight.”

“That’s fine. You and I need to speak it seems. We can do this now or in the morning.”

 “Come in.” Morning would mean on set. At least here there was some privacy.

“Thank you. May I have a seat?”

“Yes, please have a seat.” Richard ran his hand down his face. This was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

Risa poured them both a glass of wine and turned to face him. “What happened back there?”

“Where?” He tried to hide what he already knew.

“On set Rich. I have worked with you for the past six weeks and I have never seen you be rude.”

“I’m tired.”

She stared at him and lifted a brow. “We are all tired. Now would you please tell me the truth?”

“No. Risa maybe you shouldn’t be here tonight. How the fuck old are you anyway?” That bothered him the most. He knew that she was at the very least 18 but past that, he had no idea.

“I turn 34 in three months.”

“Really?” That couldn’t be right. Could it?

“Yes really.”

“I thought you were closer in age to your character.” It sounded lame to his own ears.

“That is lovely of you to say, but not hardly. Was that your worry, because you got an actual erection instead of just pretending like the script called for?”

“Risa!” He blushed brightly. “Jesus Christ.”

 “Richard, we were both aroused.”

“Would you stop?!” He felt ill. Fucking hell, she was blunt.

“Not until I am done! We have spent every day for the better part of six weeks in some damn state of undress around each other. We have spent every night drinking a bottle of wine together and talking as well. The ONLY time we haven’t was when we were doing night shoots for god’s sake!”

He got up and began to walk away. “I am not having this discussion.” I can’t have this discussion, he thought.

Risa stood in his way. “Richard, we were both aroused. Do you hear me? I am not that damn good of an actress that I can fake being aroused.”

She stared at him while he stared back at her, dumbfounded. His face was lit with a fiery red blush as she stared pointedly into his eyes. He just wanted her to quit staring. Why wasn’t she leaving?

“I’m mortified that you were able to feel me. Even more so because I thought you were so young.” His reply was barely audible. “I hate the damn sex scenes. You never know if you are going to offend someone for having a bloody erection or for not having one. I went too far with you Risa. I’m sorry.” Richard meant every word of it. He felt horrible. This was not how a professional was supposed to be. Yes, it happened. He always had stopped the scene when he knew it was going to happen.

“I’m not. You felt perfect. Your hands on me. The feral look in your eyes. I wasn’t acting Richard. At. All. If that had been another time or place, I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

“Or not surrounded by 50 people?” He made a weak joke.

“Honestly, at that moment, I didn’t know they were there.”

Standing there, he looked at her in surprise. The sincerity of her words finally sinking in. Gently, Richard took her lips in a kiss. Gentle at first, even somewhat tentative. He waited for her reaction. The softness parted for him and urging the kiss deeper. His hands were gentle as they stroked across bare arms and shoulders. Not breaking away, Risa helped remove his shirt and just moments after he did the same to her.  Her yoga pants and his sweats were gone soon as well. Swinging her up and into his arms, Richard took her back to the bedroom.

Laying down next to her, no words were spoken. He did what the script called for, a calloused thumb brushed across an already hardened nipple. Now, he could see. The shiver, the parting of full lips. Those sharp panting breaths that made the taut flesh pucker further. His head dipped forward, a kiss was placed on the tip of each nipple. With each kiss, her body arched.

His own breath was coming faster, but he would not rush the moment.

“You are beautiful.” He wanted to say more but found himself at a loss for words.

It was Risa’s turn to blush. “Not as beautiful as you are Richard.”

He marveled at her responsiveness to each stroke of his hand. Warm skin was flushed and each time he slid a hand across her body in a different way Risa shivered with pleasure. She returned the touches with her own. Lips found the hollow of his collarbone, licking the shallow space. Wandering hands stroked across his muscles everywhere she could reach.

When she pulled away gently, just in that moment he felt the loss. It didn’t last for long when full lips found the tip of his cock and she drew him in between her lips. Long fingered hands, like that of a pianist, stroked his inner thighs while she tasted the pre-cum at the tip. He couldn’t help it when his hands clenched the sheets nearly ripping them. He had to stop her or he would finish for the night. Richard was far from ready for the night to end. Pulling Risa up his body, he could feel the tip of his cock slide against the wet folds. It took everything in him not to thrust into her even then.

Languid kisses took each of their breaths away. His fingers explored lower, opening her some. Groaning softly when he did, Risa felt a flush of embarrassment when she realized just how wet he made her. The warm chuckle in her ear washed the embarrassment away.

For seemingly hours that was all they did. Exploring each other’s bodies and reveling in the kisses that were no longer stifled. They tasted and touched between soft words spoken. Their bodies, slick with sweat, shimmered in the low lights. Hours passed in seconds and they were both ready for more.

Richard looked in to his lover’s eyes. The warm darkness sparkled a wordless answer of delight. “Look at me Risa. Look, please.”

So she did. Their gazes stayed locked on each other as he finally took her fully as he had wished to do all day. A soundless cry was all she could do. Their eyes still intent on each other while bodies and hearts danced together. Richard pulled her leg up, driving in deeper. Delicate hands clenched his body, nails biting across his skin while she pressed upwards to meet those deep thrusts.

They clung to each other with lust and need.

Within the moments of their lovemaking, they found and shared truths. A strong hand brushed back fallen curls so he could witness the very moment when she gave herself to him fully. Moments after he paid witness to her’s, Richard did the same. Cries mingled into a symphony of luxuries found together and an aria of desire, until both were spent at once.

The room was close to silent after that. Their hearts and breathing slowing. Richard rolled to his side, taking Risa with him. Their bodies still connected. He made a sound of pleasure once more as Risa’s hand stroked gently along the damp hairs at the nape of his neck. Neither spoke. There was no need to. Two people that were far too concerned about what the next day would bring felt at peace, together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
